Pale, then enkindled, light advancing, emblazoning summits of palm and pine,

Not the moon. A flower on the other side of the water. The water sweeps past in flood, dragging a whole tree by the hair, a barn, a bridge. The flower

A doll’s hair concealing an eggshell skull delicately throbbing, within which maggots in voluptuous unrest jostle and shrug. Oh, Eileen, my

Two girls discover the secret of life in a sudden line of poetry. I who don’t know the

The old wooden steps to the front… where I was sitting that fall morn… when you came downstairs, just awa… and my joy at sight of you (emergi… into golden day—

iiGloria Praise the wet snow falling early. Praise the shadow my neighor’s chimney casts on the…

"The World is not something to look at, it is something to be in.… Mark Rudman I look and look. Looking’s a way of being: one beco…

“Adam, where are you?” God’s hands palpate darkness, the void that is Adam’s inattention, his confused attention to everythi…

Weier Tagesanbruch. Stille. Als… hielt ich es für Seewind, in unser… von Salz, von baumlosen Horizonte… bewegte sich nicht; das Laub meine… regungslos.

After I had cut off my hands and grown new ones something my former hands had long… came and asked to be rocked. After my plucked out eyes

The fire in leaf and grass so green it seems each summer the last summer. The wind blowing, the leaves shivering in the sun,

Since I stroll in the woods more… than on this frequented path, it’s… trees I observe; but among fellow… what I like best is to see an old… fishing alone at the end of a jett…

The cat is eating the roses: that’s the way he is. Don’t stop him, don’t stop the world going round, that’s the way things are.

High, hollowed in green above the rocks of reason lies the crater lake whose ice the dreamer breaks to find a summer season.

Long after you have swung back away from me I think you are still with me: you come in close to the shore on the tide